After a boisterous, adrenalin-pumping landfall in Bundaberg in the dead of night, I anchored next to the Bundaberg Port Marina and tried to get some shuteye. Next morning I requested clearance into Kangaroo Country and was instructed to proceed to the quarantine pontoon where a reception committee of five Australian Border Force officers was waiting for me complete with flack jackets, army boots and Smith & Wessons .49. No red carpet, no welcome basket of tropical fruit. This is not Fiji. These guys don´t fool around, I thought to myself.

First I had to hand over my vaccination and Covid-19 test documentation. Then I had to get off my vessel and the five officers, including a black sniffing dog, boarded Spalax 2. The canine was supposed to sniff out the laundered cash and cocaine I didn’t have stashed away in the bilges. 

Then I was allowed to climb back aboard and one of the officers asked me to turn on my navigation instruments to check my track from New Caledonia to Bundaberg. The weren’t sure if I rendez-voused with a Russian oligarch’s mega-yacht mid-Pacific and taken on fifty kilos of meth.

Then followed a police interrogation. Only a blinding neon lamp, shining into my eyes, was missing. The first question was: Have you seen or met any suspicious looking persons before you came to Australia? And it just went downhill from there.

Next step was a biosecurity inspection. Rebecca was a cheery, middle-aged lady who chatted with me, confiscated my garlic, onions, eggs, coconut hells and charged me AUD 300 for her services. But she did leave me cooking oil, sugar, coffee, spices and spaghetti, rice and canned beans.

Finally, I was instructed to go to a hospital, get a Covid-19 test and forward the results to Queensland Health. I did so like a good boy and after two days of red tape I was free to roam the continent down under.

I later learned that I was the first overseas boat to make landfall in Bundaberg in 2022. As it was still the cyclone season not much pleasure boating was happening along Australia’s east coast. I was also surprised I hadn’t seen a single water craft on my approach and was later told that the coastal waters were full of floating tree trunks, empty oil drums and other large-size debris resulting from heavy flooding inland. As a flood is considered an Act of God, insurance companies would not cover any damage caused by floating debris.

Notwithstanding my bellyaching tirade above, I as impressed by the exotic wildlife. Odd-looking bird with oversized, thin, curved beaks would poke around by the road looking for bugs. Herds of large marsupials would sit around in the shade of a tree and stare at me, motionless. A school of piranha-like fish would go into a feeding frenzy if I tossed a piece of bread in the waters of the marina. 

But the first memorable impression of Australia was its smell. A sweet, pungent scent of flowering grasses, combined with cinnamon and and cloves assailed my nostrils as soon as I dropped anchor. I came across that very specific smell in my past but simply couldn’t put my finger on it.

As far as human activities are concerned, the Aussies sure know how to take care of their living environment: neatness, orderliness, cleanliness are the order of the day. And I can imagine that their carbon footprint is rather small. 

But don’t get me started on the carbon footprint. I’ve only been here a week.